


Winteriron - Blind Date

by tisfan



Series: Candy Hearts [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad dates, Blind Date, M/M, Negging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony goes on a bad blind date. A really, really bad blind date.





	Winteriron - Blind Date

“No, really, Tony, babe--” (And when the hell had Tony given this dude permission to call him _babe_ , anyway?) “--you really could be a looker. There’s just… some adjustments to make, that’s all, just a few tweaks.”

The restaurant was nice, at least. One of those four star, takes forever to get a reservation, or a lot of money kind of deal. Tony picked up his fork and wished the waiter would come back to refill drinks. He realized he was poking holes in the tablecloth with the tines of his fork and put it down.

Oh, he probably ought to respond to his date, shouldn’t he. “What… kind of adjustments?”

There were a lot of things Tony was insecure about -- his general worthiness being highest on the list -- but his looks hadn’t been one of them. Mostly it hadn’t occurred to him that there was anything _wrong_ with how he looked. He wasn’t fall over dead gorgeous or anything (his father had once crisply informed him that Tony got the worst of both sides of the family, all his mother’s brains, which was to say none, and all his father’s looks, which was to say, a bit like a smarmy weasel) but he did okay.  

“Well, quite frankly, you could stand to lose a little weight,” Justin said, leaning back. He held up his hands in a square, as if he was framing Tony, feature by feature, to pick apart everything that was wrong with him. “And while you’re at it, you might want to try to lift a bit more, bro. Your arms, just… noodly, am I wrong?”

Tony couldn’t decide if he was angry or amused.

Also, he decidedly had to have words with his friend Maya if this was the sort of guy she thought he’d be into. Obviously, he was doing something wrong. Either that, or she was pushing him to date total assholes so that when she sprung the guy she really wanted to set him up with, he’d look good by comparison.

Justin _snapped his fingers_ at the waiter, which had Tony rolling his eyes. He might have considered the whole stuffing breadsticks in his purse and making for the hills (so to speak) except one, he really did want to try the food here, and two, he hadn’t driven, which meant getting an Uber and risking his date getting pissed off and trying to follow him out to the parking lot or something.

“Can, I, like, get some actual service here?” Justin practically bellowed. _Dear Telsa,_ Tony thought, _just let me make it to the second course?_ Tony was just promising the gods of science his first born child and to actually do his damn homework when he happened to look at the waiter. He hadn’t really wanted to make eye contact with the guy, because Justin was being such a tool ( _ha! Pun!_ ) and Tony didn’t want the waiter to think that he… approved or anything. But once he looked at the man, he couldn’t look away.

Dark, wavy hair pulled back into a semi-sloppy manbun at the nape of his neck, with a chiseled jaw, cleft chin, and eyes like a sea after a storm ( _stop it, Buttercup!_ ). He was, quite frankly, perfect. Beautiful, even. Tony sighed and didn’t quite flutter his eyelashes. It was bad form to gawk at the waitstaff under any circumstances, but while on a date -- no matter how badly it was going -- was _verboten_.

And yet, Tony kept sneaking peeks at the guy as he answered Justin’s ridiculously long-winded questions about the various dishes. He’d already ordered a beer before dinner, but he was poking at the menu for suitable gluten-free options. Not that Tony cared about people’s food allergies, but you didn’t _drink beer_ and have gluten problems unless you were doing it for the fad.

(He was trying to give Justin the benefit of the doubt; maybe he already knew the gluten content of that particular beer and knew he’d be okay with it. Tony’s eyes fell on the basket of pre-dinner rolls. Nope, that was out. Justin was just being an ass and making things difficult for the kitchen.)

As soon as the waiter went away again, Justin started back up on a point-by-point list for the general improvement of one Tony Stark, so he’d be worthy of a second date.

Tony actually took out his phone and started making notes. If nothing else, reading the list out to his friends Rhodey and Jan would probably result in at least one of them offering to punch the guy.

\-- highlight his hair, because dark brown was just not attractive (Justin’s hair was at least a frosted sort of blond. It did not, as far as Tony could tell, add to his attractiveness)

\-- get a tan (he even recommended a tanning salon, despite Tony’s commenting about the greatly increased risk of skin cancer from a tanning bed)

\-- dress in different clothing (Jan was decidedly going to be the one to offer to punch Justin, because Jan hand-picked like eighty percent of Tony’s wardrobe, and quite honestly, Tony usually looked very sharp, whenever he was trying. And he wasn’t down in the workshop today, so no jeans and a greasy tee)

\-- do _something_ about his hands and nails (Justin actually took Tony’s hand and held it for a while, before criticizing his brutally short nails and calluses)

And then Justin had a whole list of hobbies, activities, political ideals and preferences in music that would be on the approved list. The whole while, he was talking louder and louder -- Tony could barely get a word in edgewise that wasn’t _yes_ or _hmmm_ \-- and the people at the surrounding tables were starting to crane around to look and see what a loser Tony was. (Either in the sense that he had so much wrong with him, or that he was being wimpy enough not to protest any of Justin’s treatment of him. In either case, there were way too many eyes on Tony to make a scene _now_.)

“So, when do you think you’d be able to get started?” Justin leaned back in his chair and gestured at Tony with his butter knife before licking butter off of it, and Tony just wanted to crawl under the table and _die_.

“Started?”

“Well, really, self-improvement, why wait?”

“Oh, uh…”

“Mr. Hammer?” There was their waiter again, leaning over obsequiously. “Sir, there’s a phone call for you, in the bar? Said it was important.”

Justin’s face did a smug… _thing_. Where he tried to both simultaneously look surprised and yet, like he was important enough to expect something like that. Tony watched as Justin rubbed at his chin, debated whether or not looking important was worth interrupting his list of Tony’s flaws and badgering him into agreeing on some sort of _I want to be Justin’s boyfriend_ fitness plan.

Not, Tony thought, that he wanted to be. What he wanted to do was--

“I’ll be right back, _babe_.” Justin got up -- and was it petty of Tony to notice that the man hadn’t had his napkin spread over his knee? -- and stalked off in the direction of the bar. Tony couldn’t quite help pulling a face as he left.

The waiter gave him a wide, brilliant grin and held up one finger. As soon as Justin was out of sight, “Come on. I packed up your dinner for you.”

“What?” Tony was befuddled, but not so much that he wasn’t on his feet pretty much as soon as the waiter spoke.

“You don’t want to date this guy, you really don’t,” the waiter said. “He’s in here almost every month, he-- come on, before he comes back. You don’t deserve that.”

Tony patted his mouth with his napkin, picked up his wine glass, and followed the waiter.

Once they were in the somewhat less ritzy staff hallway. “I got a friend to fake the call, so he’ll be a minute, but really, Hammer? He’s in here all the time, his uncle’s got a stake in the ownership, so he gets a comped meal once a month, he can’t afford it here, it’s all bullshit and bamboozlement. He’s trying to neg the shit out of you, and if you go home with him, there’s a good chance no isn’t going to be the answer he takes. Do you have a ride, or did you come in--”

“I rode with him, but I can get an Uber, um--” Tony blinked a few times, “--I don’t even know your name, why are you riding to the rescue?”

“Oh, hey, hey, Bucky, here’s your-- oh,” another waiter said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “This must be for yooooou.”

Tony found himself with a takeout box in one hand, while Bucky -- _Bucky_? Really? -- got into a shut-up and go-away pushy pushy fight with the other waiter. Clint, as Tony was gathering. It was all so utterly ridiculous that Tony couldn’t help but smirk.

Clint finally shooed off, Bucky turned back to Tony, blushing furiously. “Look, I can get you to an Uber pick up, or I’m off in an hour. I can give you a ride home, if you want to sit in the staff area and eat your meal. I promise, Hammer won’t find you back here.”

Tony gave Bucky a once over -- yeah, the guy was handsome as hell ( _he’s so tall and-- oh, my god, Tony stop making heart eyes inside your head_ ) -- and he wasn’t giving Tony any of the sleaze vibes that Justin started putting out right away. “Just a ride home?” Tony asked, trying to establish expectations.

Bucky held his hands out. “Just a ride home, that’s it. No ulterior motive, no expectations.”

Tony considered the take out box in his hands for a long moment. “Okay,” he said. Then, because Bucky was cute, and he did just save Tony from a bad date at the least… “and maybe coffee?”

Bucky practically melted. “Coffee… would be great.”


End file.
